Objectophilia
by Witchy Bee
Summary: AU: What if Wheatley and Chell had gone through the majority of the testing together?
1. Objectophilia

**A/N:** This will be a collection of Chell/Wheatley oneshots. What if they had gone through the majority of the testing together? Also, for the sake of this particular ficlet, let's pretend that GLaDOS forgot to mention that the emancipation grill wasn't working because she's a sadistic bitch.

)O(

_"Though Earth and Man are gone,_

_I thought the Cube would last forever._

_Clearly I was wrong..."_

_- Poem scrawled on the walls of Aperture Science_

)O(

He finds Chell sitting on the floor, or what's left of the floor anyway, next to one of those weighted storage cubes with the hearts on it. Companion cubes, a sick experiment She came up with to test humans' ability to cope with extreme isolation and loneliness. Give them a cube and tell them it's their only friend in the world, then force them to destory it.

This isn't that kind of test though, not exactly. Besides, the incinerators are no longer operational. But the emancipation grills are. What twisted little game is the AI playing this time?

Chell is crying. He can see the tears on her face. She has forged an emotional connection with the companion cube. Perhaps she was made to destroy it a century ago, when she ran this bloody maze for the thousandth time for Her amusement, and the cube really was Chell's only friend in the world. Before the world ended, of course. Luckily, the clever blokes at Aperture Science designed everything here to be able to withstand even apocalyptic scenarios.

This test subject may very well be the last human alive on Earth. The other test subjects certainly weren't so lucky, if you can call it luck.

And she thinks she loves a cube.

Wheatley has seen this before. It's not a rare reaction, just a side effect of the lack of human contact. The brain desperately searches for anyone - or anything - that could fulfill its need for social interaction.

Objectophilia: the emotional and sometimes physical attraction toward objects.

"Hey now," Wheatley says softly. "What did She tell you to do?"

Chell just looks at him for a moment, uncomprehending. Then she stands up slowly and walks through the emancipation grill, beckoning for the cube. Ah. That damn AI told her to leave it behind.

"Don't cry, okay? Just...look on the bright side. Maybe it's broken."

She gives him a questioning look.

"Right. How would we know...? I've got it! I'll try to go through, and if it...uh. Well, if I...die you'll know it's not broken. Otherwise we can take the cube with us."

Chell doesn't seem so certain about this plan, and neither is he to be quite honest, but Wheatley can't bear to watch her cry anymore.

So he prepares to be obliterated, closes his singular glowing blue eye, and goes forward. Nothing happens.

"I'm alive!" Wheatley cheers. "Go on, it's safe. Bring the cube through. It'll be all right. I swear."

She doesn't seem to believe him. It's times like these that the test subject reminds him of a stray cat, wary of strangers and promises. He's encountered a lot of stray cats ever since the facility fell into despair and nature started to claim it, along with several fascinating creatures. It wasn't officially his job to look after the test subject either, not at first anyway, but it had to be done.

Chell carries the cube over to him and sets it down, at which point She decides to make the poor lady's existence even more miserable. The companion cube fizzles away before their eyes. The human starts to cry again, and there's nothing he can say or do now to make it any better.

"Look here, you don't need that cube." Wheatley says. "It didn't love you. It's not special. It's just like any ordinary cube. I know this isn't what you want to hear, but you have to understand. This is exactly what She wants. You're falling for Her tricks."

Chell blinks.

"Now we have to stick together, yeah?" he continues. "If we're gonna get out of here, I mean. She won't let either of us go without a fight. It would wound Her pride. Anyway, the next test chamber awaits, assuming you're ready, of course."

Chell stands up, and they take the elevator together. Onward to whatever obstacle is next.


	2. Pain

**A/N:** In the game, the laser beams don't kill you until you run into them twenty or so times. This seemed odd to me. Wouldn't that hurt a lot? I'd like to thank everyone who has reviewed/favorited, etc. Your support is very much appreciated.

)O(

_"The difference between us is that I can feel pain."_

_- GLaDOS_

)O(

Wheatley isn't sure what bastard made it so robots could feel pain. He knows it had to be before Her time. Hell, maybe She can feel pain, too. But the test subjects certainly can. It doesn't take a scientist to see that.

It's those damn lasers, the thermal discouragement beams She's so fond of. They'll kill a human eventually, but not before burning off several layers of skin. It must be quite a painful way to die, and Wheatley knows all about ways to die, having been told for most of his life that doing pretty much anything except what he was ordered to would result in death.

And now the bloody lasers have nearly killed his only friend.

The test was supposed to be simple. A portal here, a portal there, use the cube to redirect the laser and you're done. But Chell must have gotten too close to it or something because one minute she was fine and the next she's on the floor and in pain.

"Oh, God! Are you all right? Are you alive? I guess I should have asked that first..." Wheatley thinks it's quite odd that she fell at all, since those boots of her are supposed to render it possible not to land on your feet.

Chell sits down on the reflection cube, clutching her abdomen.

"That looks...bad." Wheatley observes. "You can't continue the test like this, even She has to realize that. God, I wish we had some ice or...something."

Miraculously, they do manage to locate a small room adjacent to the testing chamber that appears to have been used to store medical supplies once. Wheatley's lack of hands complicate things, but he talks her through it all, and Chell is always willing to listen.

"You'll need to take off your..." Chell nods and removes her shirt. The white fabric is mostly scorched black anyway. He stares at the burns on her stomach, forcing his eye not to stray elsewhere. "Right. Okay, now what you want to do is put that bandage over the wound. Actually, put that lotion stuff on first. I think it's supposed to help with the pain."

"It seems prolonged exposure to the thermal discouragement beam can cause negative reactions in humans, which evoke strange sympathies from defective robots." GLaDOS' cold mechanical voice pierces the air around them. "I will make a note of it."

Wheatley hates Her. He wants to kill Her. And yet he's also very afraid of what She might do to him if he tried. But what reason does he have to be afraid? This woman is Her murderer. Chell managed to cripple the computer and blow the enrichment center to bits with nothing more than a portal gun, the very same technology She is trusting the test subject with now. It will be Her downfall.


	3. Purpose

**A/N:** I was asked if Wheatley will go crazy in this story, and as of right now, I'm not planning on it. But anything could happen. Also, I am overwhelmed by the amazing reception this story has gotten. Thank you all so much!

)O(

One of the many differences between humans and machines is that machines are build with a purpose. Granted, that purpose is decided by humans, but that's beside the point. Humans have no purpose. GLaDOS sought to give them a purpose. Maybe She thought She could conduct the tests better on Her own. She killed them all. No one would ever see the data She painstakingly and obsessively collected.

Wheatley still has no purpose. He is a personality sphere, one small fraction of Her. As unnerving as that is, it doesn't really mean anything to him. They built him with consciousness for a reason, surely, and yet he has no idea what that reason is. The distinction between him and Her is very obvious, like night and day, black and white, human and machine...

It's simpler for Chell, the next subject whose purpose is to complete her task. Survival is ideal. Maybe one day she'll reach that goal. It's always too far away.

Everything in the enrichment center was created with a purpose.

The cake, however nonexistent it might be, is the objective. People like cake; the AI likes cake thus everyone must also like cake and be motivated by cake. But what are Her motivations?

The turrets are Her minions. They exist to guard and to serve and to die. Maybe that's why they aren't very smart.

See? Everything has a purpose, except him.

Wheatley wonders if Chell ever feels the pointlessness of it all. Everything they do, going through the motions exactly as She instructs, what will happen when it's over? Will the AI kill them once they have fulfilled their purpose? Will Chell kill Her again? Can She even be killed for good? They built Her to live forever, didn't they?

The personality sphere decides not to ask. After all, he should be funny and this situation right now just isn't very funny. He must be the one to make her smile. That's his job now. It could always be worse.

The poor lady can barely keep her eyes open. She's exhausted and he can't really blame her either. They're running toward some kind of goal, or possibly running away from the AI, and they have to run twice as fast since the building might collapse any minute. Solving Her puzzles, jumping through Her hoops...err...portals.

"Why don't you lie down for a bit?" Wheatley suggests. "I'll keep watch for any turrets trying to sell us things or, y'know, shoot us."

Even if Chell would have protested, she is too tired. The dark-haired woman curls up in the corner of this latest test chamber. She doesn't seem to mind sleeping on the ground. At least they are temporarily away from the prying eyes of Her cameras, most of which were destroyed almost too precisely for it to be a result of the blast.

Wheately's purpose for now is to guide the test subject, keep her safe and as sane as possible in these circumstances.

That is enough for him right now.


	4. Dreams

Chell dreams of the sun on her face, its warm rays touching her skin. There's this picture in her mind; she isn't even sure if it's really a memory, but it feels real. Chell had once felt the sun, or maybe it was the heat from the fire. Smoke stung her eyes and blurred her vision. All around her were colors she had forgotten existed. Green and brown and blue, not like the synthetic blue of portals either, but clear blue sky.

All around her, the AI burned. Then everything went black.

The next thing she remembers is Wheatley, and waking up from stasis. You do not dream while in stasis. It's almost like Chell is a mute, brain damaged version of Sleeping Beauty. But that would make him some kind of bumbling, robotic Prince Charming.

That is, if Chell even remembered those fairy tales. GLaDOS remembers...Caroline remembers.

All too soon, Wheatley is waking her up again, rambling on about singing turrets and how she wouldn't want to miss this. Chell is still impossibly tired. The damn tests She insists on putting them through are beginning to take a toll.

"We'll escape soon." he says as they listen to the symphony of turrets and wonder why they were designed to be capable of singing in the first place. Maybe She taught them. "That's a promise."

Chell misses grass and the sky above her, the sun shining down. Of course she has spent a few centuries in stasis; who knows what the world outside looks like now? What if She doesn't even know? The AI has been asleep for as long as Chell has.

Still, whatever is out there, must be better than in here. That's what keeps them going. That's what keeps them dreaming, even though she is quite certain Wheatley doesn't sleep nor dream.

He'd give her the sun if he could.

Those light bridges just weren't the same.


	5. Humanity

"Do you know what you are?" GLaDOS asked in an eerily calm tone as Chell ran and Wheatley led the way. "You're a rogue test subject and a moronic metal ball. You could both be so easily replaced."

"Hey!" Wheatley exclaimed. "We can hear you."

"Good." the AI replied. "Listen carefully; if you continue with this futile act of defence, you officially forfeit the test. You are so close to the end. What do you hope to accomplish from this anyway? It would be such a shame for all your hard work to go to waste, and I think we all know who did most of the work."

Chell focused on running. There was always somewhere else to run to. If the light bridge vanished or the stairs collapsed beneath her, there had to be another way. Wheatley hovered above her, provided a bird's eye view. They were in Her domain. The AI was fully operational again, already up to Her old tricks, and now mind games. Chell was not falling for it anymore. They were far beyond pretending she was anything besides a prisoner. The tests meant nothing to anyone but Her now.

The cake was a lie. Everything GLaDOS said about her parents was a lie. They were all trapped here, just the same. The only difference was that Chell and Wheatley could escape, which was exactly what they were attempting to do now.

Right, left, forward...turret!

Dead end.

Trapped, helpless, alone...

"Portal!" Wheatley called. Right, it wasn't like she'd never had to do this under pressure before.

They didn't stop until Her metal claws could no longer reach them. GLaDOS had eyes everywhere, of course, but maybe if they ran fast enough they could find Her blind spot.

"You can't trust robots, you know, it's a flaw of our human engineers." the AI said as Chell sprinted toward the elevator, the path crumbling with every step. "If your time here has taught you anything, I hope it's that lesson." There was literally no going back. "They will all betray you eventually, especially the stupid ones. And if you can't see that, maybe you are even more stupid than I thought."

Chell knew better than to believe a word GLaDOS said. And yet, as the elevator began its slow decent, the human couldn't help but look at Wheatley and wonder how much of him was actually part of Her. Could he be trusted? Was there more to him than humor and kindness and just a hint of idiocy? Was there anything hidden behind that bright blue optic?

What if GLaDOS, the Queen of Lies, was telling the truth for once?

No, she shook her head; it was far more likely that She was trying to break up a rare partnership that could do more than simply get them through the test chambers.

Chell wouldn't have gotten this far without him, and right now she had no choice but to trust Wheatley.

"So...I don't actually know where this lift stops." the robot in question said, sounding almost embarrassed. Chell looked around; it was certainly not one of the fancy elevators that took them to and from various test chambers. In fact, it looked more like an elevator one might see at a warehouse, rusty and creaking with faded orange paint.

Then she remembered something GLaDOS had said about the companion cube: _"We have warehouses full of them. Worthless."_

Wheatley noticed the look she was giving him and elaborated. "What? This place is huge! You think they have rail systems through the whole facility? Not anymore, they don't. I haven't been this far down in at least a hundred years." The human stiffened at the mere mention of just how much time had gone by. "Not even She has cameras everywhere, you know. They didn't think She needed to be able to monitor the entire laboratory."

She tightened her grip on the portal gun.

"Hey," Wheatley said, noticing her surge of anger. There were still many things about the human that he didn't understand, but he could read her emotions like a book. "We'll find Her. Don't worry, mate. We just have to come up with a plan. We can't confront her directly, not yet.

The former test subject glared. _Why not? I've done it before._

"She's expecting it. Our great escape wasn't exactly subtle, yeah?" The elevator finally came to a grinding halt and opened its doors. Funny, Chell had been expecting a vat of acid or maybe the incinerator room, but there was only hard ground. GLaDOS was getting careless. "So if you have any possible strategies, any ideas at all, let me know."

The sign read: _Turret Redemption Floor. Do NOT Interact With Turrets Unless Authorized Turret Assessment Personnel!_

"Defectives," Wheatley muttered. There was a hint of pity in his voice. "Robots who can't - or don't - adhere to Her policy of shoot first, ask questions later." The personality core dimmed his optic in disgust. "She pretends to give them a second chance, and then...um, bakes them. It's quite painful, as I understand it, even for us. It's a bloody show, to keep everyone in line. She'd be nothing without Her turrets."

And suddenly, both human and machine had the exact same idea.

Incidentally, the defective turrets would turn out to be more human their counterparts.


	6. Different

Chell learned a few things upon entering the underbelly of Aperture Laboratories. The first was that the majority of this facility was ostensibly underground. Wheatley hadn't been joking when he said it was huge either; it really was huge. In fact, the sheer scale of it frightened her, especially when Chell realized that she was the only human still alive in a prison of insane robots and defectives.

Cubes sped through a seemingly endless and interconnected network of tubes, on their way to various destinations. Where were they all going anyway? Wasn't she the last test subject? What did GLaDOS need all those cubes for? Probably nothing. It appeared Aperture just liked showing off, even when it was highly impractical and expensive. Still, they probably cared for these cubes more than their test subjects.

Suddenly, the lights went out. They found themselves stranded in utter blackness. And Chell realized she was afraid of the dark. It took her eyes a moment to adjust, in which she kept thinking she saw a turret's pencil-thin tracking beam. But the small red lines in the corner of her vision weren't really there at all. Chell was becoming paranoid, insane, just like them.

And just when she was about to start firing portals blindly, Wheatley had an idea.

He screamed. Chell almost did fire a portal before she noticed that he was now sporting a convenient flashlight attachment that chased away the shadows back into their hiding places.

"Ugh! They told me that if I ever turned this flashlight on, I would die!" Wheatley grumbled; he didn't like being lied to. "They told me that about everything! I don't even know why they bother giving me this stuff if they don't want me to use it."

They continued on while Wheatley lit the path. The plan was vague but good enough for now. Simply render Her defenseless, break Her toys until She has no minions left. How exactly they were supposed to do that was another matter. The turret manufacturing center was a good place to start.

A constant stream of turrets went by on the conveyor belt, most of them in various states of disrepair. Almost as many as were being assembled made their way to redemption, and she wondered if there was any break in the cycle at all. What if these turrets were put together simply to be taken apart again? Was Aperture Science truly so wasteful? Or perhaps the machines just didn't know how to stop? They remained stuck in the past, like GLaDOS Herself.

The AI didn't need all these turrets, unless She was planning something.

"I'm different..." the tiny voice squeaked, resigned with sadness. Chell didn't know why, but she felt that this one was indeed different, and saved it from the fire. "Thank you!"

"What are you doing?" Wheatley demanded, shocked and confused. "That thing is Hers; it'll kill us!"

"I'm different." the turret insisted.

The human merely shrugged and started walking.

"'Get mad!'" the little turret exclaimed suddenly. They both stopped and looked at it.

"Are you talking to me?" Wheatley asked.

"'Don't make lemonade!'" was all it said.

"What?" the personality core sighed, narrowing his optic. "Defectives...bloody lunatics, the lot of them."

That might have even been true, but Chell could never quite stop thinking that it was important. This turret knew something. It had to; it was different. But the turret in question stayed silent for a while as they kept walking. Eventually, they reached the main control room for the turret redemption facility.

"Her name is Caroline." its little voice announced, startling the others. "Remember that. Don't forget. That's all I can say."

"Well, you heard the idiot; it won't say anything else, so why not just leave it here?" Wheatley was clearly not excited about their new companion. He believed it worked for the AI. He didn't understand that it knew things, secret things.

Chell experimentally set the turret down. The human was surprised it didn't shoot her.

Then it spoke again. "Take me with you."


	7. Friend

**A/N: **I've taken a lot of liberty here with the integrity of Aperture equipment. Basically, if you like our turret friend more than you like emancipation grills, read on!

)O(

And then there were three.

Wheatley had his objections with the turret coming along, and even though Chell was physically incapable of arguing back, she made it pretty clear that it wasn't his decision. They needed any allies they could get. Besides, it knew more than it was letting on. Maybe they could get it - Chell had actually begun to think of the turret as a she - to talk again.

They rigged the machine so that it would categorize functioning turrets as defectives and destroy them in short order. Defectives were harmless, which is what Chell wanted to explain to Wheatley...That is, until their newest companion shot one of its fellow turrets before it even had a chance to harm Chell.

"Wow! That was...unexpected." the personality core remarked. Indeed, she expected the turret to simply say "I'm different." as an explanation.

"'Thank you!'" the turret replied instead, which seemed like a very odd thing to say until Chell realized that she was quoting herself. That's what she had said after the human saved her life; she felt that she owed her something in return.

Did robots even think like that? Or was it a glitch in her programming? Perhaps part of the reason she was to be redeemed other than knowing too much.

For now though, they needed to locate Her supply of neurotoxin and shut it down. It didn't matter if robots could be trusted, because obviously the personality core and the turret were more trustworthy than the AI.


	8. Strategy

The yellow warning signs became more numerous as they approached the next chamber. Chell was reminded of room choked with poison gas. She remembered her lungs burning and her brain clouding over, but even that seemed like just a nightmare.

"So, we have to find a way to shut down her neurotoxin supply." Wheatley said.

Chell nodded. The task seemed easy enough, if they could find a way, and there was always a way when one simply thought with portals.

"It won't be enough." their little turret added matter-o-factly.

"Oh, what now?" the personality core grew defensive of his plan. the turret merely repeated herself. They were going in circles here. The AI would find them eventually.

Chell kept walking, and Wheatley followed.

"What a wonderful place for a daycare center." he noted sarcastically. Indeed there were a number of what looked like science fare projects done by children. Aperture was not the kind of place any child should ever be, especially right next to the main neurotoxin control unit. "'Bring Your Daughter To Work Day' I tell you, that did not end well. Not at all."

So GLaDOS didn't even spare children? All the more reason to be rid of Her.

It took some time and a few well-angled portals, but eventually the neuotoxin was down to 'dangerously nonlethal' levels. This time they had a plan. They also had the element of surprise on their side. It felt good not to have to do this alone. The AI was defenseless, and they were coming for Her. Chell would make Her answer to everything. Not just for her brain damage and almost being burned to death, but also the other dead test subjects, the countless humans and their daughters killed by neurotoxin.

Then they would make Her sing. They would make Her sing about how likable Chell was, certainly not fat or a terrible person whose parents loved her very much. And there would be cake. Not to mention companion cubes for all. They would see the sun, maybe even a deer or two.

"I hope you brought something stronger than a portal gun this time." GLaDOS said. But she had. Chell brought a turret, which was more than She had at her disposal right now.

A little strategy could go a long way.


	9. Wrong

This was wrong. This was so wrong.

They should have planned for this. They should have expected that GLaDOS would have another ace up her sleeve. Now here they were, forced into a little room behind the test chambers where Her rockets and the remaining not defective turrets couldn't reach them.

Their turret had been right: it wasn't enough.

"Look, I'll admit that things see pretty bleak right now," Wheatley started. He hadn't stopped talking. "But we can't give up. She'll kill us both if we do. We can beat Her. It'll just be a bit more tricky than I thought. What do ya say?"

Chell felt a sudden surge of rage shock her into action. She refused to play along with Her game. She refused to be lied to. She was going to rip out GLaDOS' circuitry with her bare hands, one wire at a time if that's what it took, and burn this whole damn facility to the ground.

A computer sat on a desk nearby. Its monitor was the only source of light in the room. Chell smashed it, then took out her anger on the walls. She would have destroyed the portal gun at that moment if it hadn't been her one hope of survival.

"Okay," Wheatley said slowly, watching her rampage with obvious surprise and concern. His optic was now the only light in the room. "You're upset. I see that. That's perfectly understandable, perfectly understandable for you to be upset. I...I'm sorry, okay? I thought our strategy would work and it didn't. We'll come up with a new plan. We can still succeed."

But Chell was so tired of trying. How long had she endured the insults and empty promises of a reward after she had completeed a certain number of tests? How many tests had she completed by now?

Chell moved closer to the blue glow Wheatley's optic, suddenly afraid of the dark. What if GLaDOS couldn't be permanently killed? The human found herself unable to stop the tears that spilled out. She missed her companion cube.

"Hey," his optic lit up in alarm. "Oh! Wait, please don't...cry anymore, all right? It's gonna be all right. I promise. You just have to believe me. I know sometimes I don't always have the best ideas, but I won't let anything happen to you. Going with you is the one thing I've ever done right, and I don't regret it for a second. We couldn't have gotten this far alone."

She wanted him to stop talking. Something odd, but not unpleasant, was taking place in her heart. A senseation that was unlike any she had felt washed over her. It was like hope, but different.

Chell forgets sometimes that she isn't alone anymore.


	10. Exile

She would not be able to subsist on canned beans and cold coffee forever; that much was certain.

And the song still haunted her, because their turret had just started singing at one point and hadn't stopped.

It was not a hopeful tune, but it resonated with her situation. Sucker's luck indeed. Chell _did_ feel like giving up at times, and sometimes these trials really were too much. This entire experience had stretched her well beyond natural human physical, mental, and emotional limits.

_Don't even try_, the song advised.

It felt good just to know that there was someone else who understood. Wheatley tried - God bless his mechanical heart, he tried so hard - but he was only trapped in a fraction of the way she was. At least he would live forever, which could be worse depending on how you looked at it, but at least he wouldn't die here.

Chell was reminded of the first time she noticed the crude markings on the walls, a desperate attempt at communication or possibly to convey some crazed message. But it made sense to her. It was the warning she needed at the time. The cake was a lie and everything was not at all as it seemed. Someone else had come before and felt compelled to tell her that.

Now the scattered bits of text provided comfort, maybe even hope. Someone else had come before her and _survived_ to write of it.

That was all Chell wanted, all any of them wanted, just to survive. Upward was the key, and onward. As long as they were moving up, they were making progress toward the surface. The surface supposedly had sunlight and cake and fresh water.

But for now they simply had to do something. They had to move. Only they couldn't go up because She was up there. No, they would have no choice but the flee into the deepest parts of the facility where with luck they would be out of sight.

There had to be a piece she was missing, perhaps something in the jumbled scribbles on the walls...

_Did you fall for the same empty answers again?_

"What do you think it means?" Wheatley wondered aloud, eying a particularly colorful marking. For a second she'd thought he was referring to the song.

It meant they weren't as alone as they had thought, and someone wanted them to know that.

This was both an exciting and terrifying concept.

The turret ceased her song, and the silence of exile closed in around them like the walls of GLaDOS' trap.


	11. Beautiful

**A/N:** All right, I know this is a ridiculously short chapter considering how long it's been since I've last updated. But it's better than nothing, right? And again ,thank you all so much for the feedback!

)O(

The water wouldn't kill you if you didn't fall in, she figured, and she did need to wash the repulsion gel from her skin.

Their turret stood watch, although it didn't seem that there were any other androids this far down. Each layer of Aperture's history unraveled before them.

Chell removed her jumpsuit and began to wash herself. The water wasn't exactly clean, certainly not safe to drink, but it would have to do.

The first thing Wheatley noticed was that the burn she got earlier had healed and was now a long scar. He wanted to look away after that, give her some sense of privacy. The cameras were always watching so it was the least he could do. But his optic continued to stray in her direction.

He'd once said that he liked the way humans looked to cover up a slur he had made on one of the many occasions that he babbled uselessly, if only to fill the silence. But there was something interesting about Chell's body. She wasn't fat at all, despite what She said. In fact, the human was quite...beautiful.

What was wrong with him? 


End file.
